Woolgather
by let's point out the obvious
Summary: Getting lost in daydreams,rude awakenings. Butters/Kenny
1. dressed like a 1920s newsboy

Not sure where this is going. It could just be a one-shot, if I'm feeling inspired later on, it may continue. Continue to what? I haven't the slightest clue. This edges toward Bunny, but there's really no telling what could happen if I keep on it. I hope you enjoy it all the same.

South Park does not belong to me.

* * *

Butters often lost himself to daydreams. While in class, while sitting on the bus, while he waited out his father's fits over silly nonsense in the relative safety of his room. By the time he started high school he was practically a professional daydreamer, and while his English teacher praised his highly imaginative mind, everyone else he knew only seemed frustrated by his constant flights of fancy. His mother was worried by it, his father enraged, and in both cases Butters felt guilty. He made a conscious effort to keep himself firmly rooted in reality, but unless his father's wrath put enough of the fear of god into him to snap him out of his imagining, Butters was as good as lost to the real world. The therapist his mother had briefly sent him to had called it a "coping mechanism."

The few times throughout the school day that people actually made an effort to talk to him usually went to waste. While his classmates stood by, chatting away, Butters drifted away into distant dreams where he could barely hear them. They'd get fed up with him, walk away, decide not to bother with him anymore. Butters had never been especially good at making friends anyway, so his lack of company at school was no great change of pace. But the isolation was hardly good for him, and though he was usually content to live in his dreamlike state, an occasional trip back to reality where he could be met by a friendly face might be nice.

.

Seated in the furthest corner of the school library, staring blankly at a computer screen currently displaying information on the 14th Amendment while his classmates quietly conversed about anything but their assignment all around him, Butters was lost in yet another daydream. He had started out thinking about the range of civil liberties offered and expected in America and somehow, heck if he knew what path his brain had taken, had ended up on a fantastical desert planet, thinking up a story for a particularly clever and cunning princess character he'd grown fond of over his years of imagining. Lips pursed, brow furrowed, he stared, unseeing, at the text in front of him and imagined how the princess would tear the fabric at the hem of her dress to make a bandage for her wounded new friend. Yes, and she would laugh and say that she didn't need all that fabric weighing her down anyway- they were on a mission after all.

Someone was standing behind him, Butters could tell. He ignored them in favor of the princess. He imagined her helping up her friend, probably a boy a few years younger than her, a prankster with a good heart, and starting out across the hot stretch of sand to reach the palace and find help.

"Hey, Butters…"

A soft voice, close behind him. There was nothing pressing in its tone, just an effort to be noticed.

The princess would soldier on, hiking up her skirt, pausing only to tie her hair back up in a bun when it fell out of place and stuck to the back of her neck with sweat- she was a tough princess and she would get through this.

"Butters? Yo, Butters?"

She might stumble a little along the way, but she and her injured friend would make it through. They'd reach the gates of the palace by dark, just as the chill of the desert night set in, and the guards would shine the light of their torches down from their post to inspect them, see if they were bandits or spies.

"Butters."

The voice was a little more demanding now, and on instinct Butters made a soft "hm" noise, pretending that he was paying attention, even as he squinted his eyes in an effort to remain focused on the princess and her journey. She was almost done with it- this adventure was almost over. The guards were realizing who she was, apologizing for the wait, opening the gates-

"Leo?"

Butters snapped out of the daydream, shoulders tensing. He hesitated for a few seconds before turning around to face the person who'd been talking to him. Horribly messy hair, an amused, slightly weary smile, a smattering of freckles- Kenny McCormick.

Butters opened his mouth and meant to say "sorry," same as he always did when someone finally managed to drag him out of a daydream, but instead he said, "Hu…wha-what did you call me?"

Kenny's smile stretched slightly, showing the slightest flash of teeth that were all shifted just a little too far to the right, " S'your name, isn't it?"

Butters nodded dumbly, leaned back with the expectation of meeting the back of his chair and winced when his spine connected with the edge of the desk instead.

"Or do you prefer the nickname?" Kenny asked, perhaps misinterpreting Butters' expression as one of annoyance.

"Uh, no, no, it's not-"

"Want another nickname instead?" Kenny suggested, keeping his voice low, and Butters realized that he was just teasing him, "How 'bout Butterball? Butterscotch? Stotch-guard?"

Butters blinked, too confused to awkwardly laugh as he normally would. He held his tongue, expecting more variations of his stupid name, but stuttered back into the conversation when he realized that Kenny was done, "U-uh, um, no. No, Leo's fine. Actually, I, uh, I kinda like it better."

Kenny nodded, a thoughtful look on his face, as if he were appraising the name. He tucked his hands into his pockets (Butters remembered his father saying that it was rude to talk to someone with your hands in your pockets, but he didn't much mind Kenny doing it,) and said, "A'right. Anyway, the guys told me to ask if you wanted to help us break into the mayor's office tonight. Stan's trying to free the baby seals or some shit. We need an extra pair of hands and you're a hell of a lot easier to lift through a window than any of the other guys." Kenny glanced to the left, to the right, mock-conspiratorially, "You in?"

Butters considered for a moment, but it was just for show. In Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Eric's language, asking if someone wanted to help them do something meant they were dragging you along no matter what you said.

"Well, sure." Butters said with a smile. He didn't mind helping out, even if they were doing something illegal and probably dangerous. At least he was being included.

"Sweet." Kenny grinned for a half a second, then turned around to walk back to his friends, hands still in his pockets.

Butters turned his attention back to the computer. He still couldn't focus on the 14th Amendment, but the princess and her heroic tale had left his mind for the moment. Instead, the sound of Kenny's voice played and replayed in his head, _"Leo?" "Leo?" "Leo?"_

Butters smiled like a fool for the rest of the period, only broken from his dreaming when Eric whacked him lightly upside the head, telling him that class was over.

* * *

Questions? Comments? Requests? Send me your thoughts in a review.


	2. wondering how the fuck I got there

So I decided to continue it. Fair warning, this chapter contains references to songs, bands, etc. I only mention it because that sort of thing usually rubs me the wrong way, but I find myself writing song references into fics more and more often now that I'm writing South Park things. Perhaps because it's a contemporary show....Also a fair warning, don't expect continuity. Each chapter is a separate instance and not a continuous plot.

In any case, enjoy the continuation of the fic.

South Park does not belong to me.

* * *

Butters was half in love with Kenny McCormick. Ever since the day the other boy had called him by his real name he had been feeling decidedly more affectionate toward Kenny and his scruffy rapscallion ways. Somehow Kenny's use of his name had caught on surprisingly quickly, and now everyone but his parents and the pesky voice of his own conscience called him Leo. One day he was Butters, same as he'd always been, the next Stan, Kyle, and even Eric were all calling him by a name he hadn't heard anyone use since…ever. Of course they still referred to him as gaywad, queerbag, and the like, but the fact that each insult was paired with his given name made him feel, for the first time in a long time, like a normal person. Butters hadn't a clue as to how Kenny had managed to free him of his old nickname, but he was eternally grateful. Every time he saw Kenny at school he made a point of breaking out of his personal bubble, greeting him with a warm smile and a wave. And what was better, Kenny waved back. Kenny didn't look at him with irritation or disgust, didn't speak to him like he was stupid or some kind of joke. Kenny was just a nice guy, and Butters could hardly help but fall for him.

But if there was one thing Butters knew about himself, it was that he always fell for the nice ones. Sexual attraction had never really played a part in Butters' crushes. At a young age he'd gotten into the habit of blindly following anyone who treated him with the tiniest bit of kindness. He'd suffered a broken heart over a girl who'd treated him sweetly only to pick up an extra buck, and had spent the better part of three years swooning over Bebe Stevens simply because she'd offered him a hand up when a rogue janitor knocked him flying in the middle of the hallway. His feelings for Kenny were much of the same. His heart fluttered at the sight of the other boy, his palms became sweaty from nerves, he smiled awkwardly, maybe flirtatiously, when Kenny asked him how he was doing each morning. All because Kenny had called him by his name, had treated him nicely. Butters was hopelessly in like with him.

.

Class trips were far less frequent and not nearly as exciting as they'd been back in grade school, but a break from the boring, everyday school schedule to take a trip to a museum was a refreshing change of pace. Sure, it was some kind of really dull museum with exhibits about world currencies and global economic conditions, but Butters was still pleased to be getting away from the classroom for a while. The bus ride in particular was appealing to him, thanks to the opportunity for one of his favorite kinds of daydreaming, musical daydreaming.

Headphones already popped into place, Butters was contentedly drifting in and out of reality in time to a shuffled mix of songs before the engine even came to life. He watched his classmates scurry to find seats next to their desired bus-mates and eventually choose their places: Craig and Tweek across from Token and Heidi (she'd been all over Token like a cheap suit ever since the homecoming dance), with Clyde sulking in the seat behind them, next to Kevin. Stan and Kyle sat together, as was expected, in the middle of the bus, across from Wendy and Bebe, so Stan could hold Wendy's gloved hand and Kyle could ignore Bebe's frighteningly predatory, flirtatious stares. Eric sat at the front of the bus, opting to share a seat with their economics teacher, possibly because she was surprisingly attractive for a woman of over fifty, but more likely because she was a former politician and he was hoping to charm his way into the business. And Kenny-

Butters' imagined that his heart skipped a beat as Kenny climbed up the steps of the bus, but that was probably just the stutter of the bus engine turning on. He watched Kenny walk down the narrow aisle between the rows of seats, momentarily breaking Stan and Wendy's hand holding and taking the opportunity to high-five Stan in the process, then stumble and latch onto the nearest seat (god almighty, _his_ seat,) as the bus began to move. He grinned to cover his embarrassment and quickly slipped into the seat, sliding across vinyl until his thigh bumped against Butters' own.

"Hey Leo." Kenny greeted cheerfully, and seemed pleased when Butters reached up to take out his headphones, proving that he was willing to listen.

"H-hi Kenny."

He was nervous, always nervous. But with Kenny he felt the good kind of nerves. He had that whole butterflies in the stomach thing going on and it didn't bother him in the least. The little rush of adrenaline that Kenny brought to him was more than welcome.

"What're you listening to?"

Butters glanced down at his iPod, beaten to hell from use, and looked back to Kenny without ever reading the screen, "Um…something in German. It's…it's dance music, I think. I don't know…I just felt like listening to something, something…happy."

It was times like these he wanted to hit himself. If he could just keep from talking so much, maybe he might come across as a normal person and maybe Kenny would…like him? Or something? Butters wasn't sure what he was hoping for, but making a good impression was important, his father always said so, and he didn't want to look like a complete loser in front of Kenny.

If Kenny thought he was a complete loser, he didn't show it. He simply nodded, saying, "Ah. Cool."

Cool indeed. Kenny was cool, so unbelievably cool, and Butters just wanted to stare at him in hopes of absorbing some of that cool. But staring was definitely too freaky, and since he was afraid to try and make conversation beyond the usual "Hi, how ya doin'?" Butters held out one earbud in offering, shrugging his shoulders.

Kenny took it without hesitation, smiling almost smugly as he hunkered down in the seat and popped it into his ear.

Now there was just the question of what to listen to, a question that had Butters practically breaking out in a nervous sweat. Music was such a personal thing, he felt like he was offering up a good chunk of himself for Kenny to view. A playlist could show a hundred aspects of a person's personality, and Butters wasn't sure exactly what the music he listened to might show. Or even, what he wanted it to show.

Rules of headphone sharing etiquette demanded that he allow Kenny, as the guest listener, to make a song choice. Butters handed over the device, allowing Kenny to scroll through song choices for a few moments. After what seemed like an eternity, the beat of a drum came filtering out of the tiny speaker in his ear, and a bit later, softly sung lyrics.

_"We Laugh Indoors?" _Of all the music currently stored in his iPod, the now ancient indie rock song was hardly one Butters would have expected Kenny to choose. But he seemed content with his choice, sitting in a relaxed pose with his head tilted back against the seat. Butters watched him as he listened to the music, eyes half closed, lips moving just slightly, and Butters could hardly believe that he knew the words. He recognized them as they formed on Kenny's lips, "…and I want purity, I must have it here right now," and found himself wanting nothing more than to lean over and still the movement of Kenny's lips with his own.

Thinking of kissing Kenny was a new low as far as hopeless romantic dreams went, and Butters immediately looked away, cheeks going hot in silent embarrassment. He stared at the seat in front of him, concentrating on the patterns in the vinyl until his mind began to drift away. His brain weaved together images to match the music; thick smoke, swirling clouds, charcoal sketches inside his head that moved jerkily, a la "Take On Me-" a couple's tearful embrace, a lonely figure walking to god knows where, a melancholic atmosphere. When the song ended and Butters glanced back at Kenny, all thoughts of kissing the other boy had thankfully vanished.

"Hm." He said softly.

"Hm?" Kenny repeated, one eyebrow raised questioningly as he handed the iPod back to Butters, signaling his turn to pick a song.

Butters took the iPod back and began scrolling through songs, somewhat mindlessly. He had no idea what to choose.

"I…didn't think you were a Death Cab for Cutie kinda guy." He said, laughing slightly, nervously.

Kenny shrugged and responded with, "They're pretty chill." Then, after a pause, added, "My last girlfriend was seriously into shitty, mopey music. I guess it kind of grew on me."

Butters nodded and selected a song at random. He was glad now that he hadn't let himself fantasize about that kiss for too long- it'd only make the reminder of Kenny's obvious heterosexuality more painful to hear.

* * *

Questions? Comments? Requests? Send me your thoughts in a review.


	3. and he asked me to go out with him again

I'm on a roll today, so here's another chapter.

South Park does not belong to me.

* * *

Butters was a bit of a pushover at the best of times, but Kenny could convince him to do anything. And heck if the other boys didn't know it. If there was a chore they wanted done, a location they wanted infiltrated, something illegal they wanted purchased, they'd turn to Butters. And he'd give his standard, "Nu-uh."

And then Eric would heave a sigh, Kyle would raise his eyebrows at Stan, and Stan would nudge Kenny with his elbow. Kenny would throw an arm around Butters' shoulders and say, "Leo, could you do this for me?" And Butters would melt. He would inevitably agree to anything so long as Kenny was the one to ask him.

.

So when the four of them showed up on Butters' doorstep asking if he would come out to the woods by Stark's Pond and help them search for the bones of a witch that supposedly raised hell in South Park hundreds of years ago ("I swear to Christ, that fucking bitch is haunting my back yard!" Eric had insisted,) he agreed. Even though he thought it was silly and childish and a little scary, he said he'd come along. All because Kenny had smiled at him and said, "It could be fun."

As it turned out, being manipulated into a trip through the woods wasn't so bad after all. When the time came for all of them to split up and search, Stan and Kyle took off together, and thanks to Eric offending him earlier (something about the smell of sour milk keeping away evil spirits,) Kenny had opted to stick with Butters, leaving Eric to fend for himself. Under different circumstances, Butters may have suggested that they all try to get along, and would want to bring Eric along with him. But since he had the chance to spend time alone with Kenny, he figured it'd be okay, just this once, to not really give a fuck about Eric.

Butters was ridiculously happy to just walk through the woods with Kenny, enjoying the last of the daylight and pretending to look for a mystical grave sight. They weren't really fooling anyone, spending more time talking to each other and pointing out little nonsense things likes signs of wildlife and bike ramps built by kids from years past than actually looking for the witch's grave, but neither seemed to care. Kenny confided in Butters that he didn't really believe the story about the witch, since he figured that anyone with actual magic could just come back to life instead of rotting in the woods and letting their ghost wander into some fat asshole's back yard. After all, Kenny could come back to life and he was just a plain, ordinary person.

Butters didn't think Kenny was ordinary at all, and had just opened his mouth to tell him so when he heard a loud crack. Another crack, three sharp snaps and a crash later, a tree had fallen, its thick trunk missing Butters by inches and crushing Kenny completely.

Almost completely.

Sprawled on his back beneath the tree, Kenny's torso was still in view, just a few feet from where Butters stood, only his right arm obscured by branches and brush.

Butters let out a shocked gasp and, after a moment spent standing frozen in fear, rushed to Kenny's side. He knelt beside him, holding him up as much as he could with most of Kenny's body trapped underneath the tree. He could nearly see the life draining out of him, his eyes going dull, muscles falling slack.

Even going cold, Kenny's body felt good pressed against his own. His hair was soft, his skin smooth, and Butters was glad that he could inconspicuously stroke the other boy's bangs back from his forehead, pretending it was out of concern and nothing more.

"Y-you okay?" Butters asked, knowing full well that Kenny was a goner all over again, only trying to comfort him a little. He touched Kenny's cheek gently, "Is that okay…?"

He hadn't meant to start stroking Kenny's cheek, but once he started he couldn't stop. Being this close to Kenny was addictive, each little touch an indulgence that Butters couldn't afford outside of this awkward life ending moment. He was trying to make the most of it, but his heart was quickly running away from him and taking his sense with it.

"Ken…Kenny, I'm sorry, I…I shoulda warned you. I heard the tree and I froze up and I didn't know what to do, so-"

Kenny's brow furrowed and Butters shut his mouth. He was being annoying again when he ought to be letting Kenny go in peace. But he didn't want to let Kenny go. He just wanted to hold onto him, and keep holding on, and make him understand _why_.

"I like you!" Butters said, too loud and too fast, "You're my- my best friend, even if I'm not yours. You're nicer to me than anybody else and I really- I really like you!"

He bit down on his lower lip, stopping himself from rambling any further. He'd wanted to get his feelings out, just get it over with, but now that he tried to read Kenny's expression he wasn't sure if he had conveyed his message at all. The words "I love you" had never come out of his mouth and he was both grateful and ashamed for their absence.

Kenny stared up at him, his gaze out of focus and confused. Confused, perhaps, by what Butters was saying, or simply because his organs were shutting down and the world was getting blurry. He coughed weakly, redness bubbling up from his throat, stopping him from speaking.

Butters held his breath. He could feel Kenny's pulse slowing under his hand. He breathed out in a high pitched, frantic sigh, then leaned down to kiss Kenny softly on his blood-flecked lips.

Kenny didn't move, didn't breath.

"_Nice Butters," _his conscience sneered, _"Kissin' a dead guy."_

But Kenny wasn't dead- not yet. Butters sat up and wet his lips cautiously, tasting salt and copper. Kenny's pulse finally stilled against his skin and his own heart clenched in response.

_Now_ Kenny was dead.

He was holding a dead boy. Oh god, he was holding a body and yes, it was Kenny so he didn't mind holding him and he knew he'd be back but Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what should he do now? He released Kenny's corpse and crawled quickly backward on his knees until his back struck the twisted branches of a bush. Its twigs tangled in his hair and he brushed them out absentmindedly, still staring at Kenny's body.

What to do, what to do…He couldn't just leave him there! But he couldn't exactly dig him out from under the tree, either. It wasn't as if he could even carry Kenny out of the woods if he got to him- Kenny was easily four, maybe five inches taller than him, and despite his almost sickly-thin appearance he was probably too heavy for Butters to hold up for more than a minute.

So what did he do? Bury the body? Leave it alone? Should he say a prayer? Or maybe just apologize for taking advantage of Kenny like that, kissing him when the poor guy couldn't push him away?

A moment later Butters was saved from having to make a decision by the appearance of Stan and Kyle. The two boys followed through with their routine exclamations before launching into a discussion of how to handle this most recent death. Butters, already having gone through the same debate by himself, kept quiet. He didn't much want to think about anything. Guilt was setting in now, shame taking over and making him feel sick. He never should have said anything. It was a bad idea.

Eventually it was decided that, being as he was so firmly stuck under the tree, they would have to leave Kenny behind. Stan and Kyle assured Butters that Kenny would materialize back at home later, perfectly fine, and responded well when he suggested that they at least make him some kind of grave. The three of them covered the parts of Kenny that were visible with leaves and pine needles, then set out to find Eric, who Kyle insisted was probably torturing baby animals as they spoke.

As they made their way over the hill and into denser forest, Butters cast a nervous glance back at the spot where Kenny was buried and wondered if his stumbling near-confession, his kiss, would be remembered when Kenny came back to life.

* * *

Questions? Comments? Requests? Send me your thoughts in a review.


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